𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 / 𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖎 !

the  thing  was  ...  cash  didn't  lose.  he  couldn't  even  accept  a  strategic  loss,  would  never  agree  to  let  up  on  the  gas  for  those  betting  the  odds.  yet,  here  the  blond  found  himself,  staring  out  into  the  horizon  as  though  it  held  the  answers  while  his  arms  crossed  over  his  chest  as  he  leaned  against  the  demirci  vehicle.

in  his  reverie  cash  nearly  missed  bea's  approach  and  her  words  nearly  incensed  him,  but  the  driver  held  his  composure  and  glanced  over  at  her  offer  with  a  steely  blue  gaze.  "that's  not  when  he  had  me,"  the  blond  countered,  then  shifted  to  angle  toward  her  and  eventually  took  the  beer  off  her  hands.  but  he  didn't  open  it.

"i'd  like  to  know  who  worked  on  this  car,"  he  stated,  the  bottom  of  the  beer  bottle  tapped  against  the  hood.  "he  had  me  when  this  engine  started  falling  apart.  the  dashboard  lit  up  like  a  fucking  christmas  tree."  head  shaking,  almost  in  disbelief,  but  it  was  mostly  due  to  the  offense  she  hurled  at  him.  cash  had  only  slowed  down  because  the  car  had  begun  losing  power,  stuttering  and  choking,  but  he  wasn't  saying  that  part  out  loud  just  yet  because  this  had  inside  job  written  all  over  it.

She'd always known him to have a stubborn streak. Cash was arguably one of the best racers she'd ever come across, and his losses were few and far between — enough to make them harder to swallow every time. Beatriz had come to expect resistance from him, and she'd understood that conversations were a hard but necessary part of the defeat process. It didn't make it any easier to hold his intense gaze, his eyes burning with barely-contained rage, but the brunette obliged. ''I'll find out,'' she promised, but her easy disposition disappeared completely at the mention of his car. The Demirci team was careful and thorough, and many of them traded with suppliers only after she approved them. Learning that the engine had started to fall apart was a major blow to their organization. Deeper still, an uneasy sense of worry settled within, the idea that Cash might have been in danger sitting uncomfortably. ''Why didn't you say anything?'' Beatriz lost all pretense of being comforting company, springing up from the hood to whirl and face the man. ''That could have cost you your fucking life, Cash. If you suspect someone messed with your car, you wave the goddamn flag, and you come to me!''

josie waits until he’s finished talking before she moves again, sliding the last book back into place and letting her hand linger there for a second longer than it needs to. public records. at least that’s real. she doesn’t comment on his obvious annoyance or the way he seems to fill the aisle just by standing in it. instead, she shifts the cart around and glances toward the end of the row, already thinking through where that stuff is kept.

“those aren’t kept out here,” she says, voice level as she turns the cart around and starts back the way she came. “birth registers and census records are archived. different floor.” she doesn’t rush, but she doesn’t slow down for him either, setting a pace that assumes he’ll follow if he actually wants what he asked for. the quiet settles back in around them as they move, the sound of the cart wheels soft against the floor.

The stranger turned on her heels, as if she had better things to do than stand around and entertain his queries. Adriano was used to commanding respect, with people bending over backwards to accommodate him more often than not. He suspected it had a lot to do with the gun he carried and a little from his allure, too, but the short woman had barely glanced at him before turning around, soft heels echoing in the empty, silent space. ''Of course they're not, that would be too easy,'' he grumbled, but followed when she moved. She set a rapid pace, pushing the cart forward while she spoke, and Adriano found himself trailing behind like a schoolboy, anxious not to lose sight of her in the endless rows of identical aisles. ''Whatever gets me out of here faster, lady.'' He gave her a sharp nod, though he smiled at her quip, the bossy tone both unfamiliar and amusing. ''I appreciate the help,'' the mercenary offered, filling in the silence though he wasn't sure why he felt the need to do so. Something about her urged him to soothe, to appear as non-threatening as someone like him could. ''I don't mind the company either. This place gives me the creeps.'' He immediately cringed as the admission left him, hoping for the first time that someone wouldn't take offence to his words.

perfection is what had always been expected of her. she had to be the best, the smartest, the most cunning, the one who's not just ten but a hundred steps ahead of everyone else. zehra had always been prepared for anything to happen in this town, but this? she never expected this. not one atom in her body even entertained the idea of anyone in her family dying, let alone someone who wasn't even fully in the business.

a part of her just... gave up. shriveled and died along with the younger sister that she had to ship back to turkey to be buried like cargo. she hadn't been sleeping well because the lifeless body is the only thing she could picture out every time she closed her eyes, causing dark circles to form underneath hers.

she felt... fragile. even with all this power, this money, this influence, she couldn't protect her own flesh and blood, which in turn, makes her a failure.

zehra heard the door open, but she already knew that her people had let someone in she trusted, because she gave them strict orders to not be disturbed. of course it would be beatriz, and while zehra had felt no desire to actually get up, she couldn't stop herself from flinching, closing her eyes and sitting up once the room was flooded with unwelcomed light.

"what the fuck, b?!" zehra snapped, hands immediately shielding her eyes before she slowly opened them again, trying to get used to it. "i... don't know." she answered truthfully. if she was being completely honest with herself, it was easier to just stay inside and not have to talk to people. to deal with the paperwork instead.

"days i guess. three, at most." she said, resigned. she knew her friend well enough to know that today was her last day of moping inside her office, that beatriz wouldn't leave here without her. "oh, don't look at me like that." zehra sharply said, rolling her eyes. "i'm fine. it's fine. just waiting to hear back from the private investigator." she said, her voice turning low before she shook her head, almost like she was trying her best to snap herself out of the funk she had found herself in.

"what are you doing here?"

Beatriz had expected the reticence. She'd been ready to duck from flying objects aimed at her head, or insults that would get too personal, when Zehra would most certainly throw verbal jabs in an attempt to make her leave. The calm defeat that had taken over her friend made her heart squeeze in her chest, a heavy feeling of helplessness threatening to send her crashing against the chair opposite her. Her doom was a palpable, almost contagious thing. Zehra's sister had been too young. She couldn't imagine losing someone so close and, consequently, being thrown into a position of power, wielding an entire criminal organization basically overnight. ''I can tell,'' Bea wrinkled her nose in reply, opening the windows to let the breeze in. Tough love wasn't for everyone, but she knew by the crushed look in Zehra's eyes that it would be the only way to get her moving. ''Fine,'' she repeated with a snort, finally turning to face her. ''You're not fine, Z, and that's okay.'' Slumping on the chair before her, she got to opening two of the bottles before thrusting one towards her friend. ''I'm here to get you a little drunk so that you're more pliant when I try to get you out of here.'' She mimicked clicking the heavy bottles in cheers before bringing the expensive red to her lips and taking a long drink. ''And I'm here to make sure that you're not doing too badly. ''

Adriano couldn't imagine a worse place to be. The longer he spent perusing the aisles of the library, scanning dusty shelves with squinting eyes and mounting frustration, the more he added to the list of places he'd rather be. Staking out a hit on top of a building. Disassembling and cleaning every single piece of vintage artillery he owned. Sharpening his knives, checking on his ammo reserve, ordering new tools and torturing someone. Hell, maybe even sitting on the torture chair himself would be less difficult than finding what he was looking for. He was too busy cursing in Italian, a string of mumbled words about this not being on his contract, when he felt someone else's presence in the aisle beside him. He didn't bother looking up until she spoke, a soft but clipped tone that offered help but suggested wariness. He turned to face a short brunette pushing a cart of books, and a smile pulled at the corner of his lips at the picture, so very cliche of the place. ''If it helps me get out of here faster, then yes, please,'' he quipped, walking slowly towards her. ''I'm looking for public records? Perhaps some birth register or a recent census.''

only  those  closest  to  her,  which  wasn't  many,  knew  lola's  true  passion.  painting,  art,  and  the  diary-like  expression  of  it.  the  problem  with  proverbial  bleeding  on  canvas  was  the  vulnerability  that  came  along  with  it,  and  allowing  other's  to  see  insecurity  and  pain.

yes,  it  was  fucked  up  that  she  found  a  love  in  being  a  peddler,  and  no  she  didn't  exactly  see  any  wrong  in  what  she  did.  for  the  parisian  blonde  she'd  found  community  and  being  needed.  things  that  she'd  lacked  at  the  most  fundamental  stages  and  points  in  her  life.  the  cartel  loved,  appreciated,  and  praised  her.  they  protected  her.  and  that  was  how  such  a  dangerous  organization  had  become  fill-in  parents  and  family.

the  response  from  her  older  sister  brought  on  an  eye  roll  and  lola  barely  choked  back  a  scoff  into  her  champagne  glass  before  she  sipped.  "problem  is  maman  needs  to  be  careful.  she'll  have  to  be  calculated  in  taking  the  whore  out.  if  that  disgusting  man,"  referring  to  their  father,  "has  any  real  feelings  for  this  woman  or  abomination  then  she  stands  to  lose  ground  with  him."

since  money  had  never  been  something  she'd  had  to  worry  about  or  work  for,  massive  wealth  had  been  her  birthright,  lola  was  clueless  why  people  fought  so  much  over  it  and  went  to  such  great  lengths  for  it.  she'd  then  laughed  at  the  matching  blonde  and  cut  a  sly  grin  over  at  her  sister.  "i  bet  you  maman  is  going  to  find  a  way  to  do  that  very  thing  now."

It was sick, the way they spoke about their parents. If anyone from high French society were to hear them, they would pass out from the filth they exchanged, how little regard they had for the people who'd birthed them. Ilona watched her sister from over the rim of her glass, brows furrowing as she listened. "Feelings?" The thought was so preposterous she couldn't even entertain it. "You think that man is capable of feeling anything beyond greed or the tug in his balls when they need emptying?" She scoffed, shaking her head at the other blonde. There were many great things their parents had achieved. They had exemplary careers, impeccable manners, and pristine reputations that carried the Laurent name far beyond what their offspring could ever manage. Feelings and emotions, on the other hand, were the one thing they'd never bothered with. Ilona often thought they'd have been closer if they were two names on a donor sheet rather than the people who were tasked with raising them. "You think she'll get jail time?" Ilona suddenly shot up from where she was slumped over her seat, champagne sloshing over the rim and spilling onto the table. A wide smile split her face, delighted at the thought. "Fuck, now I really hope she guts the bitch."